


3 - 4:00AM

by stchristopher



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Basically Seven's route but perhaps Day five or so, Gen, Gender Neutral MC - Freeform, Masturbation, Mild Angst, NSFW, Other, feelings haven't been admitted yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stchristopher/pseuds/stchristopher
Summary: It’s Seven's job to look after the MC since they’ve arrived. Background checks, watching social media, and surveillance cameras, of course. It feels way too invasive, but he can never be too safe. Until one night comes along and he finds himself unable to turn away from the screen... a/n: MC’s gender is whatever you want it to be as MC goes entirely by they/them pronouns in this.





	

  
Three AM became four AM and he was still awake.

 

Of course he was. Seven sat in front of several monitor screens with his legs folded under him on the computer chair. Truthfully, his eyes were burning from lack of sleep but he pretended he did not notice; he tacked in more coding, then slowed his hands to a stop before dropping them to his sides.  
Three AM became three-twenty AM and he had dozed off. Springing awake, he considered getting coffee until he briefly remembered Yoosung and his fear of fainting and rare diseases, and…  
_Dr. Pepper sounded better in the first place anyway..._

When he returned with three bottles cradled in his arms, he placed them beside the keyboard and threw himself back into his chair. He stared up at the work in front of him and considered scowling. The beginnings of a background check he was nowhere near completing, and after that, two more background checks; one regarding some high-stakes criminal... And then, last of all, the still ever present search for Unknown. He still didn’t have a single idea as to who that could be, and the ebbing anxiety that it had everything to do with MC’s safety struck his gut. He sighed, pushed the thought aside, with effort.

Unscrewing one of the caps of soda, he was about to begin again when a bit of movement to the left caught his eye. He looked up to the highest, upper-left monitor he had; and smiled.  
Rika’s apartment was in stunning, black and white HD; and on the screen, as it passed between camera’s one-four, MC wandered the halls, their phone in hand. They weren’t in the chat, as no one was around right now. Perhaps bothering with other apps to handle their boredom? At moments they’d stop, lean against a wall, before moving one leg forward and walking again. The camera followed them into the living room where they turned and fell backward, over the armrest of a couch and onto it.

_What are you doing up?_

With the tack of a key, the camera stayed focus on the living room where MC lay. Sifting through his pockets and grabbing his phone, he considered opening the chat room; they’d likely go to it as soon as they saw it opened, as they always did. MC was always quick to answer. Energetic, bright, bubbly, they loved to talk. They had even called him funny, once, and so he had tried, since that conversation, to make them laugh as often as he could. He’d send something then look up, watch their reaction in the surveillance camera. And often or not, MC would grin and grin, and type back excitedly…

They were very cute to watch.

He tried hard not to watch often.

Feeling too odd to sleep in Rika’s own bed, MC had taken a blanket from her bedroom and set up camp in the living room choosing to sleep on the couch every night. Seven hoped that didn’t feel too uncomfortable; couches were often bad for your back. And neck. He knew that too well, from nights or days of being too exhausted (or lazy) to walk to his bedroom. So he’d choose to collapse on his couch and pass out there.

Suddenly, they were putting down their phone, staring at the ceiling. Seconds passed. Then several minutes. They closed their eyes. He did not open the chat; would they go to bed now? He watched as they hopped off the couch and began gathering the blankets they had brought. Ah! Good. However, they didn’t climb under them; just got comfortable. He was opening app when-  
They reached into their skirt. Embarrassed, their free hand was balled into a fist beside their lips.

He froze.

_Wait-_

This was not happening. Couldn’t be? They moved slowly, long legs spread apart and trembling ever so slightly.

_**WAIT-** _

He practically fell from his chair. Standing quickly, he looked everywhere, then at the screen, once again. He dropped his untouched Dr. Pepper, not noticing it splash onto the ground before him. They were… They were really-  
_Noo way….._

_No way, no way, no way, nowaynowaynoway-_

He should turn away, he knew it. This was wrong, this was ungodly, to watch this without their permission..! He scrambled for a way to change the camera’s view, but made a crucial mistake.  
His finger slipped.  
The key for audio was pressed.

And he thought he might die.

They sounded even softer than they did over the phone. Naturally, the audio on those damn things were impeccable and so while there was the constant, static-like humming that came with every surveillance camera, he could still hear, in jarring quality, their small, pleasurable gasps. The tiny squeaks. A low, hardly withheld _moan._

  
If he got any redder, his skin would match his hair. This was _bad_. Every inch of himself felt utterly hot and the feeling only grew when MC forced themselves into a slightly faster pace.

  
This was very, **_very_ bad…**

  
Feeling a filthy mix of arousal and guilt, Seven settled almost shakily into his computer chair again. Still, he was frozen. _I should turn off the monitor..._ Eyes closed, MC chewed at their bottom lip while their whole self trembled at the feeling of it all. _I should… focus on work… So much to do..._ He could have withstood it if they hadn’t- hadn’t-

_“A-Ah-... L-Luciel-”_

Ah.

  
Well.  
He could have spat actual blood by that point. If he hadn't been covering his own mouth, palming the bulge that had formed quite painfully in his pants. He almost regretted having never told them his birth name. How would ‘ _Saeyoung’_ sound on their lips in that pleading, pretty voice? How would _‘Please, Saeyoung, please’_ sound if they were beneath him, their mess of chestnut hair scattered around their face? How would _‘More’_ sound, how pretty would their eyes be if they were lidded, looking up at him, if their lips were locked with his-

  
His pants, everything, were undone and he tried to find their rhythm; thoughts of guilt and shame leaked into his mind but he did what he could to focus on the trembling thing on the screen, moaning his name.

  
Not Zen’s, not Jumin’s. His name. Luciel. Luciel, _Luciel._

  
They said it again, higher, more strained this time, fingers undoubtedly moving faster now. It did not take him long at all to catch up, to find that unbearable heat, his hand stroking his own length rapidly, and his mind reeling at MC’s rapid breaths.

MC came with a series of shuddering gasps, their whole self shaking, with their palm against their mouth to keep as quiet as they could. Their eyes were squeezed tight and their back was arched carefully.  
He finished himself only moments after, covering his own mouth as well but not daring to look away at the tired body on the couch, breaths falling into a calm rhythm. Their eyes cracked open, slowly, tired, pretty things and stared up at the ceiling, and he wondered if they felt at all gross about-

  
It took only a second to reach forward and press a key. And suddenly, the camera went to the kitchen. Still shaking and gasping, Seven let himself fall a bit forward, his forehead hitting the edge of the table a bit more painfully than he had intended.

  
He felt disgusted.

  
Yes, his heart was beating a little faster now but it wasn’t due to the self-pleasuring from just moments ago. _Luciel, Luciel_. They had said his name. That felt good. But by now the guilt had taken over in an intoxicating sense. He felt sick. He didn’t think he could finish working and he didn’t think he could sleep either. He closed his eyes, regretted it, regretted it, _regretted it._

  
_How gross. How gross, how gross, how gross, how gross._

  
There would be a lot of praying in his future. A lot of guilt ridden praying. Perhaps he could find a way to… Make it up to MC? But they didn’t know. They wouldn’t ever know, he would never tell them. But maybe, maybe-

  
He’d be extra nice. He was always nice, but he’d do more.

There came a buzz, a notification sound.

**[new chatroom]Seven? Are you still awake?^^**

Despite it all, his heart sank, and he turned the phone over, screen face down. He couldn’t talk to them now… He didn’t exactly… Deserve to.

Seven stood up, feeling heavy. He found his room easily, climbed into bed. His eyes ached, still, but he would not sleep. Could not sleep. On his desk, the phone buzzed again.

**You must be sleeping… Was just thinking about you. Sleep tight! ^^;;**

 

**Author's Note:**

> My bf is rly into Seven so I had to give him smth
> 
> Thanks for reading!! I plan on writing a male!MC/707 fic in the future!
> 
> original tumblr post: http://winerose.tumblr.com/post/150669559557/3-400am-an-nsfw-mc707-fic


End file.
